


Judgement

by ottergirl



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottergirl/pseuds/ottergirl
Summary: When he saw Gran Kiltas Anastasis lying dead on the floor of his temple, and Judge Magister Bergan with sword drawn, dripping blood, a fury such as Larsa had never known seemed to rip through his chest.





	Judgement

When he saw Gran Kiltas Anastasis lying dead on the floor of his temple, and Judge Magister Bergan with sword drawn, dripping blood, a fury such as Larsa had never known seemed to rip through his chest. He had his own sword naked in his hand before he realized what he was doing. 

"You murdered a holy man." Larsa could hear the incredulity in his own voice. "A non-combatant. In a sacred temple."

"On the contrary, my lord." Bergan shifted, stepping over the oracle's body as though it were a sack of flour. He approached Larsa without fear of the blade pointed at his armored chest. "I executed a criminal, as is my duty as judge magister."

"His crime?" Larsa demanded.

The helmed head tilted slightly. "Kidnapping the youngest brother of House Solidor, of course."

Larsa's hand trembled on the hilt of his sword. "He did not--"

"Lord Larsa." He knew that voice as he knew the very sound of the movements behind him, the rhythmic clank of a man walking in full armor.

"Judge Magister Gabranth." His voice was remarkably calm, even as the blade shook in his head. "Judge Magister Bergan has murdered a holy man, and an innocent one at that. He did not kidnap me. In lieu of my escort I chose another, and came to Mount Bur-Omisace with them. When my escort left, I remained behind with Gran Kiltas Anastasis. _Willingly_." The calm broke on that word, unveiling the storm of hurt and fury beneath it. Larsa took a breath, willing his mask of courtly composure back into place. "A great injustice has been committed. I request that you arrest this man for his crime."

The clanking footsteps came to a halt. Larsa chanced a look to the side, and saw that Gabranth had not drawn his blades. His heart plummeted.

"My lord." He could tell that Gabranth was choosing his words carefully. "You must put down your sword now, and come with us. Your brother desires your return to Archades. You've been away too long." The judge hesitated. "And your father--"

"I know," Larsa said. "My father is dead. News travels quickly, I am learning." He wondered, in a moment of clarity, whether this was not why he was so angry with Bergan, why he so desired to see someone punished--because his father had died while he was so far away, unable to stop it or even to say goodbye, chasing a dream of peace that was growing ever-more futile. 

"Gabranth, you are a judge magister of the Archadian Empire," he said in desperation. "It is your duty to uphold justice and the law."

"So I am, and so it is," Gabranth answered. "But Judge Magister Bergan is correct. There has been no crime here. He has shown himself remarkably lacking in _restraint_ \--" For an instant Gabranth's voice dripped with contempt, "--but not a criminal."

A soft, tinny hiss issued from Bergan's blank-faced helm. "You know much about restraint, of course, would-be brother-killer."

There was a sudden, frozen silence. Larsa watched Gabranth's helm turn slowly in Bergan's direction, with the feeling that some terrible thing was about to happen, some lightning ready to strike, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Two men and a boy stood facing one another in a sacred temple as though enemies, two with blades drawn, one with hands inching ever-closer to hilts.

And then he sheathed his own sword, in a movement abrupt enough to draw the attention of Bergan and Gabranth both. "I have made an error," he announced in his courtliest, most emotionless voice. "You are right, of course, Judge Magister Gabranth, Judge Magister Bergan. There has been no crime in the temple. Let us return to Archades. My brother will surely know the best course of action from here."

"A wise decision, my lord," Gabranth said quietly as Larsa turned to follow him.

"How could I choose otherwise with such wise advisors?" It might have been Larsa's imagination, but he was certain that he saw Gabranth rock back a step from the bitterness in his tone. At once shame rose in his gullet, to twist around his fury and choke him into silence.

"There is one more matter, my lord," Bergan remarked behind him. "That of your...'escort.' Where have they gone? The empire wishes to most stridently thank them for their service to you."

His spine stiffened. Forcing himself to relax, Larsa glanced back at Bergan and shrugged.

"I've no notion. I suppose they don't wish to be rewarded."

Bergan inclined his head. Larsa turned away. Judge Magister Gabranth stepped away from him as he strode forward, as though something in his face warned him back, as though Larsa were a man now, with a man's ever-shifting emotions, his ever-shifting sense of honor.


End file.
